


Let me go

by NotSoCoolKid



Series: Drabbles [4]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Established Sans/Toriel, Fluff is technical fluff, Mentioned Frisk (Undertale) - Freeform, Mentioned Toriel (Undertale), Technical suicide attempt, Then fluff, Thoughts of Suicide, im bad at angst sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 18:10:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12216183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSoCoolKid/pseuds/NotSoCoolKid
Summary: After a while of being watched, Chara gives up.





	Let me go

**Author's Note:**

> This is, once more, based of a role play with someone. Its loosely based, some lines are similar and the like.  
> Pay attention to the tags, though. I don't want to bother someone, there is sensitive stuff in this!

Sighing, Chara heaved themself up off the couch, stretching briefly. They caught a glimpse of Sans, in his regular spot lounging back on the recliner. Sans looked to be asleep, but Chara knew better.

They'd been revived back into this world a month ago, and ever since Frisk and Sans agreed to tell everyone about what they'd supposedly done, Sans had began to watch them.

Not in an inherently creepy way. If they were sleeping or in the bathroom, he let them be, but other than that, they were free game to be stared at intently. He'd just.. Hover. Watch them, make sure they weren't causing trouble. It bothered them beyond comprehension.

They scowled, before heading to the kitchen. They heard the recliner shift and lock back into place as Sans got up and followed close behind. They stood by the sink, where a window behind it gave them sight out to the backyard. A fuzzy shape of a bird landed on one of the trees back there, and preened itself probably.

"Kid, what're you doing?" Sans sounded confused, like he thought they were going to grab a knife to stab him in the eye repeatedly.

"Bird watching. This is the only window I get a good view." they replied, "Either way, go away. You're annoying me." The bird left its perch, chirping as it took off. They sighed, leaning their hands on the sink.

"No can do, kiddo. Sorry." He laughed a bit, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets lazily. Stupid skeleton..

"Why? You think I'm going to get my hands on a knife? Sorry, Toriel keeps a lock on the drawer." They snapped, turning to glare at him. They hated being followed. It bothered them and made them feel like they were back  _there_ all over again.

Sans held his hands up, "Hey, hey. I never said that, kid. I just have a hard time trusting you, after all of  _those_ runs." His smile was strained, and he looked nervous almost.

Huffing, Chara looked down at the sink. It was dry, but a clean looking knife resided in it. It must have been dropped by Frisk. They were too young to clean knives, Toriel felt like they might cut their hand on the blade.

Their hand twitched some, the want to grab the knife and use it against Sans bubbling up again. It was overpowered with another want.

In a fluid motion, they snatched the knife from the sink, the metal of it scratching loudly as the picked it up. Their nails scrape the sink painfully, the sound making them wince.

The second the knife came into view, Sans was moving. His hand was up, fingers curling harshly. A grip on their SOUL followed, and with a sharp move of his arm down, they hit the floor hard.

They were struggling immediately, a bone shooting out from no where, knocking into the knife loudly, sending it skittering out of reach. Chara cried out, reaching for it more, straining to retrieve it.

"Heh.. Why now? Why choose to show who you really are now?" Sans asked, chuckling breathlessly, sweat beading up. He was startled, but glad no one else was home.

It wasn't long before the cries of frustration turned into actual sobbing. He faltered, watching as they reached desperately for the knife, tears welling in their eyes, streaking down their face before meeting their hairline.

"Let me go! Let me go! This was all it took, right!? Kill me! That's what you had to see, right? Seeing me with a knife! So kill me already!" They sobbed, eventually giving up, going limp in Sans' hold.

More sweat beaded up, and he coughed. He approached them, easing himself to sit down. His hand came out, turning their head to look at them in the eye.

"I'm not going to kill you, kid." Sans sighed, leaning back a bit. Chara looked so pitiful, so broken. Their chest was heaving with broken sobs and strangled breathes, and they were openly sobbing. He' never seen them so broken, before. It shocked him. Had he driven them this far? Had he really made them feel so helpless that they wanted to die?

He used his magic to put the knife away in the drawer, before releasing Chara. The kid scrambled up, sniffling and choking back sobs. They rubbed at their face with their sweater sleeve, smearing snot and tears all over it. Gross.

Sans caught them by the waist, dragging them closer to him. He, again, lazily used magic to get a roll of paper towels, tearing one off and gently cleaning their face up with it. They attempted to bat his hands away, sobbing brokenly.

"Okay, kid. Spill. What's wrong?" he asked, rubbing their back to soothe them a bit. By then, he'd released them, letting them sit there of their own free will.

They shrugged, ".. I don't wanna talk.." Their voice was hoarse, and scratchy. They sounded tired, more than ready for a nap.

Sans sighed, before nodding and standing up. He leaned over, hooking his hands under their arms, before lifting them up. He held them close, stumbling briefly with the weight. They wrapped their legs up against him, knees at his ribcage and feet pressing into his spine a bit uncomfortably. He had one hand on their upper back, the other on their lower back supporting them. The extra weight was odd, and his steps were heavier for a moment until he got used to it.

Somewhere along the way of taking them up to their bed, they'd fallen asleep, gripping at his jacket, tears staining their face and nose running. Their hair hung limp, sticking to their cheeks where their tears had been.

Sighing heavily, he eased them down into bed. They made a noise, face scrunching up at the change. But as he detached their clingy hands from his jacket, an covered them with the thick quilt Toriel had made them so long ago, they relaxed. They went on to cling to the quilt, sleepily drawing it up to press a part of it to their chest, head tilted own to bury their mouth and nose into the thick fabric that smelled like home.

He smoothed their hair down, before leaning over, pressing his teeth to the side of their head. He had misread them as cold, but really they'd built walls to protect themself. Walls he'd broken down without them needing it, and scared them. He just hoped he could fix everything with them.

He knew he would need to talk to Toriel about what they'd said, and looking into therapists for them. He didn't know any other way to help them more.

He smoothed their hair back again, before tucking them in properly and straightening up. He sighed, looking at them as they rested comfortably, before leaving the room.

He had a lot of work ahead of him. But that came with the deal of raising kids, he supposed.

**Author's Note:**

> this was also written somewhat late and not on my phone! I have a kink in my neck and legs now from sitting at the kitchen table, rip me!!!!


End file.
